Moving In and Moving On
by Goody
Summary: Nick stays with Greg for a few days after he is attacked by Nigel Crane during which time Greg helps him face his demons and they explore their own growing relationship. Slash.
1. Moving In

Disclaimer: CSI, Nick. Greg and all the rest of them are not mine. I make no profit off of my fanfiction hobbies.

Summary: Nick stays with Greg for a few days after he is attacked by Nigel Crane during which time Greg helps him face his demons and explore their own relationship. Slash.

Rating: PG-13 for swearing and sexual situations

Spoilers/Setting: Takes place immediately after Stalker, so Nick is all bruised and beat up and Greg has never been blown up, just remember that.

Author's Notes – So this is my first Nick/Greg slash, everything else I've done has always been a friendship piece but I thought I would try my hand at hooking our boys up. This is also a kind of character study into the ramifications of the attack on Nick and what it does to a person and their psyche and that has been really fun to write as well. Hope I haven't put off my many faithful readers who liked Nick and Greg as friends, I just really wanted to give it a try. Not a whole lot of action in this story, as I said it's a study in characters and relationships, but there is some angst and H/C on both sides which I find quite enjoyable. Hope you all will like it as well. Please enjoy …

Moving In and Moving On

By Goody

It was still early morning when Nick's eyelids cracked open, and it was very early considering he had only gone to bed three hours before. Sighing, he thought for a moment about how much he really didn't want to move. The room was a comfortable temperature thanks to the nearly silent air conditioner in the window, the bed seemed to have molded to his body in an attempt to keep him in place, and best of all, Greg's head was resting soundly on his chest. And if there was one thing Nick never wanted to do, it was disturb Greg's sleep.

Unfortunately, the annoying ringing of his cell phone had already woken Greg up too.

"You didn't turn on the voicemail again, did you?" Greg accused sleepily, eyes still closed.

"No, sorry. Everyone we know is usually smart enough not to call during the day," Nick apologized as he stretched to somehow reach the phone without having to make Greg move.

"Then it's probably a telemarketer, just let it ring," Greg suggested. He was fully aware that Nick was trying hard to make sure he stayed comfortable and he was grateful for that, because he had no intention of budging. Nick's chest was just too comfortable.

"Telemarketer's don't call cell phones, G," Nick reminded him as he finally snatched the cell off the side table. "Stokes. Oh, hi … uh huh. Well, do what you can … no, there's no rush. I'd rather have it done right, than done fast. No, that's not what I wanted, it has to be a cross-bar. Uh, I better just come over. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Nick sighed as he hung up the phone and Greg protested as well.

"No," he whined, snaking an arm across Nick's bare chest to keep him in place, having heard his treacherous plans to leave the warmth of the bed.

"Sorry, it was the guys fixing my roof, they're … well they're pretty much incompetent. I gotta go show them how I want things," Nick explained apologetically, then kissed the top of Greg's head in hopes it would be enough to get the younger man to move.

But Greg remained, "I don't care. You're my pillow, you're staying right here."

"Greg, I …"

"Shh, pillows don't talk."

Nick smiled and kissed Greg again, "Really, I gotta go, I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you. I'll make you breakfast when I get back."

Greg groaned, still not pleased about having to move, "You'll have to do better than that."

"Fine, breakfast and I'll pick up some Blue Hawaiian on the way home," Nick promised, finally getting Greg to roll over reluctantly.

"I want pancakes," Greg demanded as a final concession, as he tried to get comfortable sleeping on an actual pillow.

"All right, pancakes it is. I'll be back soon," Nick promised, pulling on a pair of sweat pants as Greg just grunted a response and fell back to sleep.

Nick shook his head in amusement, yawned, and then headed for the shower. As he pulled back the curtain and turned on the water he was amazed, as he had been everyday for the past month, at the sheer amount of shelf space and hygienic products Greg managed to fit into his shower. There were shampoos, conditioners, leave-in conditioners, soap, body wash, bubble bath, a special shampoo for color-treated hair with another conditioner to match and a few things he didn't know what were for. He thought that after a month he would have become used to the crowded shelves, even more full with his measly plain bottle of Perts Plus 2-in-1 Shampoo and Conditioner, but they were still surprising to him, which is what he loved about living with Greg.

He smiled, enjoying how good that sentence sounded: living with Greg.

It was probably one of the first times in history that two men had moved in together _before_ they started dating, but that was exactly the way it had happened for them.

As Nick lathered up his soap, he remembered when Greg had first made his proposition.

Nick had been standing alone in the observation room of the police precinct after Nigel Crane had been taken away to a holding cell. His entire world had just been turned around and he was completely lost in thought about why Crane had chosen him and how close he had come to being another body on Doc Robbins' table. Just another case for the team to solve; an innocent person murdered by a psychopath. And he couldn't help but wonder why he had been so lucky. Why he should survive when so many other people, every murder victim they had ever investigated, hadn't made it. But he couldn't figure it out because he was exhausted and his body screamed in protest at having to stay upright any longer when it was so battered.

He decided to go home and see if the medication the doctor had given him would be enough to keep him from thinking for awhile and just let him rest, which was what he needed. When he finally managed to get his incredibly sore body out into the hallway he was surprised to see there wasn't a single CSI in sight, just a dirty blond labrat leaned against a wall and looking around nervously. And despite the unbelievably shitty day Nick had had, he couldn't help but smile a little when he saw him. It was just his natural reaction to seeing Greg and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Nick, hey."

"Hey G, what's up?" he had greeted him, exhausted but willing to make the effort at conversation, just because it was Greg.

"Not too much, same old genomes to splice, coffee to guard, the usual. I uh, I heard about what happened though," he started off shakily.

Nick grimaced. If Greg already knew the whole story then the entire lab most likely knew by now.

"Word's already gotten around the lab, huh? I guess I shouldn't be surprised. People interested in my private life seems to be the theme of the day," Nick sighed, suddenly even more exhausted, so much so that he didn't notice Greg cringe, fully aware he had been one of the causes of Nick's misery. He had only passed out the flyers to get Nick's attention, and it had worked, but he had had no idea those very flyers would be the first step in the steady downward spiral of Nick's nightmarish day.

"We were all worried about you is all, and I just needed to see how you were doing after … everything," Greg had replied, and it didn't escape Nick's notice how Greg had used the word 'needed' instead of 'wanted', but didn't say anything.

"I'm in one piece, I guess that's all you can ask for."

Greg nodded at this, but didn't seem comforted. In fact, he looked like he had had a pretty rough night himself, and his face was drawn with concern.

"Sure, that's good. Glad to hear it. Well, just, if you need anything, like anything at all, let me know all right. Like, do you need a place to stay tonight or anything?" Greg asked bluntly. He tried to make it sound casual, like it was the natural progression of the conversation, when really his heart was pounding in his ears in anticipation of how Nick might reply.

But Nick had had a very long day and his mind wasn't quite settled in reality yet, "Place to stay?"

"It's just, I know I couldn't stay alone if … well, besides, your house is a crime scene now, isn't it? You can't get in there tonight. Hotels are a hassle and crazy expensive, so, my spare bedroom's all yours if you want it?"

It took a moment, but eventually Nick shook his head as if to clear it and then brought a hand to his forehead with a sort of embarrassed realization.

"Wow, I must be more out of it than I thought. I didn't even think of that. My roof pretty much caved in too. It could take weeks to fix."

Clearly the gravity of what had happened to him was slowly starting to settle in for Nick, and Greg was eager to help any way possible.

"Yeah. Look, I'm off in like ten minutes. I've got one last sample to finish up but how about I meet you in the locker room in a few and then we'll go to my place and you can get some sleep," Greg offered, and cringed about how it had not come out the way he had intended.

Nick accepted though. More than appreciating the gesture and actually curious to see Greg's place.

"That'd be great. Thanks G."

The first night had been awkward. Nick had been so sore and exhausted that he was horrible company. He ate the quick meal Greg made for him to take his meds with and then went straight to bed in the spare bedroom, that he found surprisingly plain, not even bothering to change his clothes.

The next day Nick felt more like himself and really took in the townhouse and its nuances. He had been surprised by the size until he remembered that Greg made more money than him so could afford a spacious little home. Everything was modern and slick, clean and ordered like Greg's lab, but also like the lab there were added touches of Greg-ness all over the place. The walls were a clean white with a few family photos but also with a few music posters. None of the tacky, cheap college type – they were all laminated on huge wooden plaques and were more art than a shameless band plug.

The normally laid out living room was accentuated by a bright red rug that was so out of the place it only looked like it belonged due to the circular glass coffee table that stood on it. The top and legs were all clear glass with barely visible lights built into every crevice to make it glow in a relaxing blue hue at night. There were a hundred other little Greg touches like that and Nick immediately loved the entire place because it fit Greg's personality so perfectly. Also, during those days while he tried to get over the physical and mental anguish of being stalked and attacked, he took comfort in the fact that the apartment allowed him to be completely surrounded and immersed in Greg, without the labrat actually having to be there.

As he rolled tentatively out of bed and into the hall on that first morning, Nick found that Greg was up before him, slaving away in the kitchen in a manner he didn't seem particularly skilled at. The coffee was done and needed to be taken off the burner, but Greg had no chance to do it as he tried to flip the eggs he was making in one pan while also trying to make sure the bacon in the other pan didn't burn. Nick smiled as he limped slowly into the kitchen, knowing the unorganized effort was for his benefit, even if it looked like it would be a less than perfect meal. But he knew it was the thought that counted.

"You know, traditionally, what you do is cook the bacon first and wrap it in paper towel so it will stay warm while you get the rest of the food ready," Nick instructed as he walked up behind Greg, who hadn't noticed him with all his fussing.

"Hey, morning. Well, thank you for the advice but your timing sucks. I definitely could have used that information before I started," Greg replied, sighing as he realized he hadn't pushed the toast down into the toaster, so it was still just bread.

"If I'd known you were gonna go all out I would have. Really G, you didn't have to do all this … or, try to do all this anyway," Nick said seriously as the coffee finally got removed from the burner.

Greg shrugged, "It's no problem. You've had a shitty enough couple of days, I'm not gonna add to it by making you eat Cap'n Crunch for breakfast."

Nick laughed, "You eat Cap'n Crunch?"

Greg blushed a little and turned back to the bacon.

"It was on sale."

"Sure," Nick said, as he sat at the kitchen island and poured himself a cup of coffee.

Greg finally got everything sorted out and split up the bacon and eggs onto two plates, then sat on the other side of the island.

"There you go, eggs-a-la-Greg. The uh, toast will be another minute. So, how'd you sleep?"

"Thanks. Not too bad actually. I thought, after everything, that I'd be up all night, but I conked out and didn't wake up until I smelt what was clearly a masterfully made breakfast," Nick joked, not mentioning how it had been an amazingly sound, restful sleep because he knew that Greg was nearby and took great comfort in that. Having the labrat around had always had an intoxicating effect on Nick since the first day they met. He had to smile when Greg was around, there was no other possible reaction and he was glad he had chosen to stay here instead of all the other friends' houses he could have crashed at. He knew that no other place would be as comforting.

Across from him, Greg laughed at the barb on his cooking, "It's the effort that counts okay."

"It just amazes me that you can splice and replicate DNA but eggs and bacon seem to baffle you," Nick continued good-heartedly.

"Yes, but I have a degree in DNA. I don't have a degree in bacon," Greg replied, accentuating his point with his fork.

Nick laughed but then they were mostly silent as they listened to the news on Greg's kitchen radio. When they were both done Greg reached to take Nick's plate, who immediately protested.

"I can get it, G."

"No, I got it," Greg argued. While they fought over who would take the plate their hands brushed briefly and the argument quickly ended as Nick relinquished and pulled away. They both blushed and neither made eye contact as Greg quickly shuffled over to the sink.

Nick sighed. Maybe it had been a mistake to agree to stay here, despite how much he wanted to be there. He knew he enjoyed spending time with Greg far too much, could sit and listen to him talk for hours and he knew that here in close quarters he may do something stupid. He could accidentally run his fingers through Greg's hair, something he had wanted to do forever – he was desperate to know about the texture and how it did the crazy things it did. Or if they were on the couch talking, and they were close, Nick knew he would have to kiss those lips sooner or later. They taunted him with the way they easily formed complex scientific formulas or could ramble for minutes on end without missing a word or a syllable. He just wanted to run his thumb across the lower one and see if that would interrupt Greg's tirade. And he imagined it wouldn't. Greg would just keep going as Nick fondled him, kissing and touching him everywhere that he could reach.

Now Nick knew he was really in trouble because he could feel himself swelling down below along with these thoughts and he was only wearing sweat pants, which would hardly hide his growing erection. Thankfully Greg was still at the sink, rinsing off their plates and Nick took the chance to make a getaway into his temporary room. Once inside he sighed and leaned against the door, trying to convince himself not to lose Greg as a friend by telling him how he felt.

After all, there was no better way to lose a friend than by telling him you were more attracted to him than anyone else you had ever met in your life.

He could hear Greg shuffling around, still cleaning up their breakfast in the kitchen. Nick felt like a horrible guest by not going out there and helping but he knew he needed to create a little distance for now. Being surrounded by so much Greg-ness was putting him into overload. He could see Greg everywhere, could smell him in every crevice of the house and saw his personality in every piece of furniture and decoration. And of course, there was Greg himself. So close and so eager to help him through this traumatic time – and so painfully unaware of the strain his mere presence was putting on Nick. His room at least was a sanctuary. He didn't know who normally stayed in it, but for some reason there was no trace of Greg inside. The walls were bare, the furniture was plain, even the bedspread was a dull shade of blue. And that was something Greg never was, dull.

It took a few minutes, but Nick eventually felt like he had composed himself and moved back into the hall, then headed to the living room and slowly lowered himself onto the couch and looked for the remote.

Greg was just finishing up the dishes and came into the living room still drying his hands.

"The playstation's in that cupboard if you want a game," he offered as he stood at the arm of the couch.

"Thanks, but I'd be playing with a pretty severe handicap," Nick huffed, indicating his sprained wrist.

But Greg wasn't deterred, "Yeah, it's probably for the best anyway. I'm not known for taking prisoners."

Nick laughed, "Well, you just wait until I'm better then, I'll whoop you, and not just at playstation."

Then the flirtatious smile Greg often wore at work made an appearance, "That a promise?"

Nick was taken a little aback and was contemplating an answer but was saved when Greg continued quickly.

"I'm gonna take a shower. You need the bathroom?"

"Nah, I'm good," Nick waved him off and Greg disappeared down the hall.

A moment later his head returned, peering around the corner, "And the remote is usually down the left side cushion."

Nick nodded, apparently Greg could read minds, and found the remote exactly where he had said.

"Gotcha," he said to himself, immediately clicking to the Discovery Channel. However, when he heard the water start running in the shower he quickly became far more interested in Greg's living room than anything the yellow-tailed chickadee might be up to.

Pushing himself off the couch slowly, he first studied the photographs displayed along the wall, smiling as he got a little insight into Greg's life outside of the lab. There was Greg and what looked like some college friends around a huge birthday cake that Greg was scooping up with his hands, apparently aiming for the guy next to him. The next big thing was a diploma from Stanford that Nick admired for a moment, knowing it was a huge accomplishment.

The next picture showed Greg in a graduation outfit next to a well built graying, older man who smiled with pride as he crushed the much smaller Greg in a massive hug.

Nick smiled as well.

"Could this be the famous Grandpa Olaf?" he wondered as he carefully removed the picture from the frame to read the back.

_Grandpa and I. Grad '96._

He put the picture back carefully and then noticed the very last picture, purposely blown up to be slightly bigger than the rest.

He remembered when it had been taken, just a few months ago at the company picnic. Warrick and the others were in the background, but the main focus of the picture showed him and Greg, arms on each other's shoulders in victory after beating a couple of patrol cops in a game of volleyball. It had been a proud moment, especially since the cops had been gloating about being able to beat the science geeks no problem, and it may have been Nick's imagination, but he thought it was the one Greg looked the happiest in.

Putting the picture back he moved on to the bookshelf, finding all the basics. A few fiction novels, mostly crime stories, some forensics and chemistry textbooks and journals and the entire bottom shelf was devoted entirely to magazines. Nick took a moment to flip through them. There were a lot of Rolling Stone and music related stuff, a few Sand and Surfs and tucked away at the bottom was something Nick figured had to be a gift from someone that didn't know Greg very well.

_Rare Coins of the Early 1900's_

He pulled it out and opened it to find the pages were worn and some were even dog-eared as though it was used quite frequently. Nick shrugged and put it back – Greg really was a mystery in himself.

The final stack of magazines took Nick by surprise, it was all Car and Driver issues with a few other automotive titles mixed in. Nick had never known Greg to be a car buff, had noticed that his car knowledge seemed to be quite limited actually, so he was surprised by the magazines. He remembered telling Greg a few months ago that he should read Car and Driver instead of Sand and Surf so he would know the difference in the types of transmission fluid cars need. Looking through the stack, it seemed Greg had immediately taken his advice because there wasn't a single issue dating back more than three months, the same time Nick had suggested it.

Nick smiled, enjoying the thought that he had impacted Greg's life enough to get him to change his reading habits. He took the latest issue off the stack and moved back to the couch, pretty sure he hadn't read it yet.

It was quiet and he was only a few pages in when his cracked ribs protested the position he was sitting in. He shifted, but then he wondered, could someone be watching him now? And suddenly he felt like someone was. There was nothing wrong really, but there hadn't been anything wrong during those days Crane had been watching him either, so was silence the first sign?

He stood up, unaware that he was being paranoid. Crossing the room, he closed the curtains and made sure the windows were locked and went into the kitchen to make sure that door was locked too. Walking slowly back to the couch, he still couldn't relax and instead gazed up, looking at the ceiling for any sign of peepholes or spy equipment.

A door opened behind him. He started to reach for his gun, but it wasn't there. Then he shook his head.

"Snap out of it man," he thought as he tried to tell himself it was all in his head. It was just Greg coming out of the bathroom. There was no one watching him, no one waiting to strike out – there was just Greg. And that was all he wanted.

"Don't go there either!" he told himself and tried doubly hard to focus on reading the magazine. But he had to turn around when he heard footsteps behind him and then the magazine dropped to the floor, completely forgotten.

Greg was standing in the doorway, hair dripping wet and plastered to his head, wearing only a towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

Nick swallowed and forced himself to look Greg in the eye instead of staring at the surprisingly great body Greg hid under that labcoat everyday at work. That didn't help either though. Nick figured Greg must like his showers hot because his face was red and flushed from heat. He couldn't help but watch a water droplet as it worked its way down Greg's forehead, across his cheek and then down into the smooth crook of his neck. Nick was suddenly grateful his ribs were cracked, because if not for the pain when moving he was sure he would have tackled Greg right there and licked away every last beautiful droplet of water from his body.

"I'm done in the bathroom, if you need it," Greg told him.

Nick didn't respond right away. He nodded first, then a second later thought speaking might be good too so said, "kay. Thanks."

"Sure," Greg answered, lingered for one more second in the doorway, and then retreated to his own room. He was breathing harder than he should have been and unlike Nick he knew perfectly well that the flush of his cheeks was not from his shower, since he had just had a very cold shower. Greg sighed. Living this close to Nick, having him literally around the corner, or even in the room, would definitely require more than a fair share of cold showers in the coming days.

He dried off quickly, got dressed and then spent a little more time than usual on his hair, wanting it to look especially good if he was going to be around Nick all day. When he was sure he looked spectacular he took a deep breath and went into the living room to find that, yes, his dreams had been answered and Nick Stokes was sitting on his couch, even if it wasn't under the best of circumstances.

Nick was thankful that Greg was fully dressed when he came back in. Even though the brief glimpse he had had of Greg's body would fuel his fantasy fodder for weeks, he also knew he wouldn't be responsible for his actions if Greg came back and was still showing some skin. Looking at the clock though, his brow furrowed.

"Cuttin' it kind of close aren't you G?" Nick asked.

Greg plopped next to him on the couch and tried to come off as casual, even though they were both very much aware of how close they were sitting to each other, "What do you mean?"

"Don't you usually start work at ten?"

Greg smiled, "Not on my day off I don't."

"Oh, I thought you were on today," Nick explained and tried not to smile. Not only did this mean that Nick wouldn't be alone all day, which he was grateful for after the night he had, but it also meant he would be spending the day with Greg, which was something new and exciting.

Greg did smile a little though, glad he had called Grissom the night before. He had wanted the rest of the team to know where Nick was and that he was all right and then had gone so far as to ask for the day off work so Nick wouldn't be alone. Grissom had agreed whole-heartedly, and now here he was, next to Nick on the couch.

Greg's smile widened as he thought of something to say to break the quick tension made by his seating choice, "So, I don't know what you usually use, but if you feel like creating or building any toys while you're here, let me know. I'm sure I can find you something to work with."

"Oh, lay off, man," Nick replied, laughing to himself as he struck Greg with a pillow for mentioning that horrible line in the Crimestopper article.

Easily deflecting the pillow, Greg laughed as well, "Seriously, you make toys? What was with that?"

"No I don't make toys. God, I can't believe they wrote that," Nick mumbled.

"So you didn't say it?"

"I said I used to make toys when I was little. I was talking to the victim's son, trying to cheer him up, it was totally out of context," Nick explained, knowing he was never going to live that article down.

"It's still kind of funny," Greg said, then added conversationally, "What did you used to make?"

"It's stupid," Nick waved him off, face reddening.

"Come on," Greg egged him on. "I told you about my Cap'N Crunch."

Nick smiled, unable to deny Greg anything, "I don't remember many. I know once I put airplane wings on a fire truck so it could fly to the fire and not get stuck in traffic."

"That's not a bad idea," Greg shrugged, thinking it was pretty impressive for a child.

"What'd you do when you were little?" Nick asked, turning the conversation around as he was curious about Greg's childhood.

Instead of smiling with fond memories, Greg scoffed at the question, "Played with my chemistry set and tried not to get beat up."

"Seriously?" Nick's brow furrowed at the serious direction this conversation looked like it would be taking.

Greg shrugged, having come to terms with his childhood, "You know how it is. The popular kids pick on the … less than popular kids."

"That's weird. I totally had you pegged as class clown."

Greg actually laughed at this, "Oh no, that's where the college make-over comes in. You move to a new city, redefine yourself, how you look and what you like, and then you figure out what kind of person you want to be. Trust me, my high school self was not the person I wanted to be."

"I guess some people do that," Nick mused, still unable to picture Greg as unpopular. He was so damn likeable and energetic, and drop dead gorgeous.

Greg's voice knocked him out of those thoughts, "You didn't do that?"

Nick shook his head, "Nah. I was the same guy in high school as college. Dependable, there for people. I guess I was okay popular."

"You were popular," Greg stated with infinite certainty.

"I was a dependable guy so people liked me. That doesn't mean I was popular," Nick argued. "Besides, I had a chemistry set too."

"If you actually thought you fit in and were liked in high school, then you were popular, trust me. If you're not popular, you never feel that way," Greg explained. "And I bet you didn't go around gloating about that chemistry set either."

"Why weren't you popular?" Nick asked, genuinely curious.

"I was just the trademark person to pick on, I guess. Scrawny guy, braces, captain of the chess team. Thank god I didn't wear glasses on top of that," Greg said seriously, then flashed a cheeky smile. "Plus, everyone was jealous of my good looks and fashion sense. It was all just resentment."

"Yeah, that must have been it. Captain of the chess team?" Nick asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Greg nodded enthusiastically, not the least bit ashamed. "I got a trophy in my bedroom if you want to see it."

Did Nick want to see Greg's trophy? That was not a tough question. But Greg's bedroom, that was off limits.

"I'll take your word for it."

"All right. You want a game, I'll show you myself."

Nick never could back down from a challenge, "Set the board up Einstein. I'll show you what us 'popular' people did with our brains."

An hour later Nick succumbed to defeat for the third time. For his part, Greg was humble enough not to gloat, but was smiling in a very satisfied fashion.

"So, what did I win?" Greg asked playfully.

"My undying respect for your chess skills," Nick replied, still looking at Greg's last checkmate from all angles. "Man, a twelve move defeat, that's just sad."

Greg shrugged apologetically, "I could have had you in eight but I was being generous. Really Nick, you never lead with your center pawns."

"Well, I'll know that for next time then," Nick replied and yawned while stretching very tentatively.

"You all right?" Greg asked, concerned even though chess wasn't exactly strenuous.

"Yeah, just these pain meds make me drowsy," Nick explained, then imaginatively added, "They make it hard to focus too. I want a rematch once I'm off them."

"Anytime, anyplace," Greg promised. "Why don't you lay on the couch and watch a movie, you can drift off if you feel like it. I got some lab stuff I need to work on so you can pop in anything you like."

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan," Nick agreed and moved himself back into the living room. He was almost nervous to see what Greg had for movies, but was pleasantly surprised to find it a pretty normal collection, with just a few Marilyn Manson concerts and stuff on DVD to make it a little more exciting.

"Haven't seen this in awhile," Nick mumbled, popping in The Shawshank Redemption and settling himself on the couch. He could hear Greg in the dining room behind him, cleaning up their chess game and setting up his laptop instead. The knowledge that someone was there with him, someone he knew and trusted, allowed him to relax and enjoy the movie, but an annoying voice at the back of his head asked him what he was going to do when Greg had to leave? Or Nick had to go back home, and he would be alone, with his thoughts and his injuries and his paranoia, and no one to distract him. No one to comfort him or protect him, just alone and vulnerable …

For now he told the voice to shut up and let his eyes drift shut in sleep because Greg was there, and Greg was more than enough.

TBC

Nick's road to recovery won't be immediate, hope you'll stick around for more. Things heat up next chapter. Please let me know how I'm doing on the slash, I'm not accustomed to writing it and I'm also not used to stories that don't revolve around Greg being in constant danger. If this story seems familiar it was previously posted at WMTDB.

And yeah, I know Miles in his Shoes isn't done, I'm sorry. Please don't kill me. I really do love you all and am not trying to torture you with my lack of finishing it.

Later, Goody.


	2. The Moment

Disclaimer: CSI, Nick, Greg and all the rest of them are not mine. I make no profit off of my fanfiction hobbies.

Summary: Nick stays with Greg for a few days after he is attacked by Nigel Crane during which time Greg helps him face his demons and explore their own relationship. Slash.

Rating: PG-13 for swearing and sexual situations

Spoilers/Setting: Takes place immediately after Stalker, so Nick is all bruised and beat up and Greg has never been blown up, just remember that.

Moving in and Moving On

By Goody

When Nick woke up the movie was over, but he quickly found that the fears that had plagued him before falling asleep had become reality. The house was quiet, incredibly quiet.

That's the first sign, he reminded himself and felt his breathing quicken a little.

"Greg?" he called out, but there was no answer. Looking around, he found a note on the table in front of him.

_Getting groceries, shouldn't be long. Hope you like spaghetti, Greg._

Nick breathed and tried to calm down. It was ridiculous to panic. He was at Greg's house, no one knew he was there, no one was watching, he told himself. The doors are locked, the windows are closed, you're fine!

The doors _had_ been locked at least. What if Greg hadn't locked them when he left? This neighbourhood was pretty secluded so he might not feel the need to. But Nick felt the need to. Sitting up, he noticed how dark it was. Hadn't the lights been on when he fell asleep?

Not willing to take any chances, he veered off his path to the doorway and made a pitstop in his room. He had only brought a small bag to Greg's, filled with whatever clothes he had had in his locker at work, but Brass had also given him his gun back once Crane was handcuffed and he had packed that as well.

Gun held low, he slowly crept through the dining room and into the kitchen. He shook the front door knob – locked. Nick sighed, relieved and now feeling ridiculous for walking around with a gun, and knew he had to put it back before Greg got home.

When he got to the door to his room he stopped. A footstep, a floorboard creaked. The gun was brought up immediately, pointing down the hall as Nick stood frozen, shaking slightly with anxiety and fear.

The door down the hall began to open and Nick couldn't move. His eyes were trained on the door, his body tense, his finger poised on the trigger.

Greg shut off his bedroom light as he came into the hallway and yelped in terrified surprise to find a gun aimed at his head.

"Wha … Jesus, Nick put the gun down it's me. It's Greg, put it down!"

Nick heaved in a huge breath but lowered the gun as asked, "God Greg, are you trying to give me a heart attack? What are you doing sneaking around in the dark?"

"I wasn't sneaking. Jesus you scared me! You were still asleep when I got back with the groceries and I didn't want to wake you. I've been in my room reading," Greg explained, also breathing easier now that the gun was moved away. "What are you doing with a gun?"

"The note you left said you were gone. The lights were off, I heard someone else in the house – what would you do?" Nick defended, now leaning against the wall, exhausted with relief that it had just been Greg.

Greg took a calming breath and didn't have to remind himself of what Nick had just been through. He had a right to be paranoid.

"You're right, okay, I'm sorry. I should have thought to grab that note or let you know I was home or something," he conceded, more than sympathetic to Nick's state of mind.

Nick went to rub his eyes and realized he was still holding his gun, which he threw on his bed in disgust.

"No Greg, geez, I'm sorry. You're letting me stay here and making sure I rest and I point a gun in your face. God, I'm so screwed up right now," Nick admitted softly, face in his hands and showing his first real sign of vulnerability since Crane had been arrested.

There was silence as Greg took a step closer and put a hand on Nick's shoulder.

He nodded in agreement and said softly, "Yeah. You really are."

It got the hoped for laugh from Nick, at which point Greg added seriously, "But I'm known for being pretty screwed up too. If you need to talk I'm right here. Just, leave your gun at home."

"Thanks G," Nick replied, putting his own hand on Greg's shoulder. "I may take you up on that, just not right now."

"No problem."

A moment passed and they both left their hands where they were a second too long, until suddenly Greg asked.

"You wanna go for a ride?"

Nick's eyes widened, "What?"

"To your place, I mean. I know you don't have much stuff here so I called Gris. He said we can pick up some stuff from your house as long as we promise not to touch anything probative to Crane's case," Greg explained as he hastily stepped back.

Nick nodded, "Oh, yeah. That sounds great. Just give me a sec."

"Sure. I'm gonna get my shoes on."

The drive to Nick's was pretty much silent. Greg immediately flipped on the radio once in the car, but kept the sound to a minimum and even flipped it to a medium rock station. It was neutral music, something neither of them loved or despised but it kept them from fighting over what they listened to.

Greg was pretty sure music was the last thing on Nick's mind though, as he stared out the car window the whole drive, deeply lost in thought. He hadn't been back home since Brass and his men had bashed down his door (something else that'll need to be repaired, he thought) and stopped Nigel Crane from killing himself or Nick, maybe even both. He didn't know how he would react to being back in there. He wasn't sure if he would be able to control his emotions, or if he would even feel anything. Maybe he wouldn't even be able to go inside. He just wasn't sure.

But he was about to find out, because Greg was pulling into his driveway.

He took a deep breath. There was yellow tape across the front door that hung just on its hinges and even though Greg had shut off the car Nick made no move to open his car door. Instead he stared straight ahead, body suddenly aching and frozen.

He was scared of his own home.

Beside him, Greg continued to grip the steering wheel, unsure of what to do or say. It seemed Nick had no intention of going inside just yet.

"I uh, I can go in for you, if you want. Just tell me what you want me to grab. I'm sure I could find it," Greg offered. He was hesitant to go into another crime scene in case he screwed up again, but he also wanted to help Nick by any means necessary.

Silence.

"No." The word was stronger than Nick looked at the moment.

"No. I'll go in." He finally looked at Greg, almost pleading. "Will you come with me?"

Greg nodded automatically, "Yeah. Definitely."

They both slowly unbuckled their seatbelts and got out of the car. Nick led the way, Greg a supportive half-step behind him as he headed for the door which swung open slowly adding to the eerie feeling Nick was getting from his house.

The doorway was as far as they got for awhile as Nick took in the damage to his home and how its comfort and safety were destroyed, and Greg tried to imagine how one psychotic little man could wreck Nick and his home so terribly.

"Let me know if I'm next to something I'm not supposed to touch," Greg requested, remembering how inexperienced he had been at the bus accident a few weeks before.

Nick suddenly straightened a little and seemed to focus, "Just follow my footsteps. Hug the wall until we're down that hallway. Then we're pretty much in the clear."

"Okay," Greg replied, staying close to Nick, perhaps too close, but the entire house felt creepy. The silence and tension mixed in with the destruction was a horrible combination that made Greg want to leave. It also made him feel sorry for Nick for having to see his beautiful home reduced to this.

When they made it to Nick's bedroom he relaxed a little. There was no sign of Crane in here. Nothing broken or blood splattered or even out of place. It was just his bedroom, with his neatly made bed and his books and Greg. And God, if Greg was in his bedroom under any other circumstances he would consider it one of the luckiest days of his life, but for now, the labrat was just there for support and distraction. He would keep Nick from getting lost in thought while he was here and that was what he needed, so he started to empty out his dresser.

Greg stood in the center of the room, hands in his pockets, looking awkward, unsure what to do now that they were in here.

Nick noticed as well so asked, "Greg, would you mind getting my toothbrush and stuff out of the bathroom?"

"No, no problem," Greg said, shuffling out, looking around in wide circles as if he expected something to jump out at him at any moment.

Nick couldn't blame him. His house was freaking him out too and he started to load up his duffel bag even faster, not noticing what clothes he grabbed at this point. When he turned and saw his bed he stopped, suddenly remembering that Crane _had_ invaded this room.

"_You said her name in your sleep."_

His eyes strayed to the ceiling but he didn't see anything. Wincing, he stepped onto the bed for a closer look. There it was. A small peephole right above his headboard, corked from the other side to make it barely noticeable. Crane had watched him. Crane had seen him do everything, every private moment of his life.

Nick shivered, feeling violated.

Crane had heard him talk in his sleep. Nick wondered if he had ever said Greg's name. He dreamed about the young lab rat frequently enough that he'd be surprised if he hadn't. What if Crane had heard that too? Well, it might explain why Crane had thought they could 'be together'. After all, if Nick had fantasized about one man, then why not another? It must have given Nigel a chance, at least in his own mind.

But there was no chance. There was only Greg. There had always only been Greg, and there he was again, standing in the doorway, waiting patiently for Nick to snap himself out of his own thoughts.

Nick licked his lips at the sight of Greg, but knew he looked ridiculous standing up on his own bed and though Greg was tactful, he was curious and had to ask.

"What are you doing?"

He looked at the ceiling again. The hole was plugged. No one was watching anymore. There was just Greg, who was looking at him with those understanding, beautiful eyes.

"Crane, he watched me sleep," Nick explained hastily, getting down off the bed. Greg's mouth dropped open and he stepped closer, trying to see for himself. He was about to say something and Nick tried to rush by, not wanting to hear another 'I'm sorry' or other empty platitude, but that was not Greg's style.

"What a freak," the labrat said instead.

Nick stopped, smiled and shrugged, "Yeah."

"He could have at least bought you dinner first," Greg continued, enjoying the rareness of Nick's smile these past few days.

"He did give me some free movie channels. Guess he figured that made him entitled," Nick shrugged.

Greg saw Nick hovering in the doorway and got the idea, "Let's get out of here. There's some spaghetti and beer at home with our name on it."

"Sounds good," Nick said, moving into the hallway. "But how about I cook this time?"

"That's the best plan I've heard all day."

When they got back Nick tried to help Greg cook as promised, but the younger man was so paranoid about Nick hurting himself or straining his injuries that the Texan gave up halfway through just so Greg would relax and focus on their meal. They ate on the couch, side by side, Nick having moved from his usual place in Greg's recliner. Their shoulders and hands 'accidentally' brushed more than a few times, and both could be blamed but neither said anything. Nervousness entered their conversations and eye contact seemed to be a thing of the past as they both now enjoyed looking at the other only in longing-filled side glances.

They watched TV and talked until late. Nick had wanted to watch the football game and Greg had agreed, pretending to be a fan though he knew nothing of the sport outside of video games. He tried to watch and stay attentive but by the second half he was asleep, exhausted from working earlier in the day followed by hours spent making sure Nick was comfortable and all right.

Nick wasn't watching the game anymore either though. Instead he watched Greg sleep, and found himself more at peace than he had been since he got thrown through a window two days before. All thoughts of Nigel Crane and his assault totally flew from Nick's mind when he was with Greg. Logically he knew he should be paranoid or traumatized in some way after everything that had happened, but all he saw was Greg. The labrat enveloped his every thought, and he couldn't seem to care that someone had invaded his life and tried to kill him. He only cared about these few days he would have in this new life with Greg and relishing every moment of it, and that was more comforting and allowed him to heal faster than he would ever be able to tell the younger man.

As he watched Greg sleep, peaceful and leaned up against the armrest, Nick found himself unable to resist one of the temptations he knew he would eventually succumb to while he was there. Reaching out slowly, he ran his hand through Greg's hair. It was conditioned and soft. The spikes that appeared hard were actually flexible and easily bent under his hand, then returned to their former position. His hand traveled lower, tucking a stray piece of Greg's hair behind his ear, then he continued with just his fingertips trailing down along Greg's jaw and his thumb hovering over those beautiful lips.

Greg shifted and Nick pulled back and panicked. Moving his hand quickly to Greg's shoulder, he shook him a little as though that had been his intention all along.

"Come on Greggo, you're gonna have a sore neck if you sleep here," Nick rushed out quickly, covering his actions.

Greg yawned and seemed unaware of anything, "Sorry, didn't mean to drift off on you. You're right though thanks. And I thought you were staying here so I could take care of you."

"Works both ways G. I gotta pay you back somehow," Nick said.

Greg shook his head, "They'll be no 'paying back' involved. I want you here Nick, get that through your head. Now, I'm taking your advice and going to bed."

"All right. I'm pretty beat myself," Nick replied, standing and walking behind Greg into the next hallway, more tempted than he cared to admit to follow Greg into his bedroom.

Greg sighed as he changed into a t-shirt and boxers, amazed he had survived the day. Then again, it was a lot easier to keep from acting inappropriately around Nick when the Texan was bruised and bandaged. A lot of times in the lab Greg would just be so happy to be around Nick that he would flirt non-stop, or ramble forever to keep the other man in the room, only realizing after Nick left that he was probably just making a fool of himself. But Nick never seemed to mind and in fact usually strayed a little while in Greg's lab, filling him in on his case or just asking how he was doing. And Greg reveled in it.

But here, with Nick visibly banged up, he was constantly reminded that Nick had just been through something terrible. His life had been completely invaded and he had almost died. Therefore, even though this situation seemed like the perfect circumstance to tell Nick how he felt, he just couldn't allow himself to unload his massive crush on Nick's shoulders when he already had so much to deal with. It wouldn't be fair to Nick, and it would also make things incredibly awkward since Nick was the ladies man who would never return Greg's feelings. And then he would have to go stay with someone else because he felt uncomfortable and that was definitely something Greg didn't want.

Choosing to keep things simple, Greg decided what he did want was a glass of water and then to go to bed. The day was over and there was nothing else to be done either way.

Down the hall Nick was getting dressed for bed with the door slightly ajar and just as Greg walked by he heard his friend grunt with pain.

"Uh Nick? You all right?" Greg asked worriedly as he poked his head in to see Nick standing in the middle of the room cringing as he gripped the collar of his shirt with his one good hand. Normally someone with cracked ribs and a sprained wrist would wear button up shirts that would be easy to get on and off. Unfortunately Nick had only had t-shirts in his bag from work, which weren't too bad going on, but with only one good arm he was finding it extremely hard to pull it off over his head without extreme pain. Seeing this, Greg stepped into the room to help.

"Here, lift up your arms," Greg instructed, as he took hold of the hem of the shirt.

"I got it," Nick assured him quickly, intimidated by the younger man's proximity. Greg was so close he could smell him, feel the warmth of his hands on his torso, and God, if Greg offered to help him with his pants too he might just explode.

"Just lift up your arms," Greg demanded with exaggerated exasperation, as if he was trying to undress a six-year old. Nick did as instructed and Greg gently pulled the shirt off over his head.

Time froze.

Now Nick was shirtless, Greg was in his personal space, both were breathing just a little too hard, and neither one was backing down. Nick closed his eyes and breathed deeply, enjoying the smell of Greg, the feel of him so close and subconsciously leaned forward, wanting more of everything that was Greg.

Greg's eyes remained open as he looked at Nick's bare chest. There were bruises and cuts in different stages of healing, threatening to diminish the beauty of Nick's body but were completely unsuccessful. Greg was taken aback by the perfection and couldn't believe it when his fingers traced down a line of bruises on Nick's ribs, his touch so soft Nick wasn't sure he felt it.

His eyes opened. He had felt it, and Greg felt it too. Nick leaned in closer. Not enough to scare Greg away, but enough to make his next move clear. Greg didn't back down, his breathing increased even more, their eyes met, there was understanding, and Nick couldn't take it anymore, he had to have those lips and taste them.

It wasn't the gentle, tentative kiss he had been hoping for. After deciding to go for it, Nick knew he had to go all the way, so he cupped the back of Greg's head and brought their lips together with so much force that Greg stumbled back and hit the wall. He just let Nick hold him there, let him devour him and told himself over and over again that this was real. This was Nick, gorgeous, funny, straight-laced Nick devouring his lips like they were the last spoonful of a sundae on a boiling hot day. Not that Greg wasn't responding in turn. He had waited too long for this moment to not react when it finally came so he allowed his tongue to explore Nick's mouth as he also snaked an arm around Nick's back to travel up into the Texan's hair. Then Greg became more forceful, pushing off the wall and running his hand down Nick's chest, amazed by the taut, strong muscles.

Then Nick pulled back and hissed and Greg opened his eyes to see he had touched a particularly bruised rib.

"Sorry. Sorry, I'm sorry," Greg whispered, out of breath from the kiss and the shock.

Nick shook his head and left his hand on the back of Greg's head, guiding it forward until their foreheads touched, "No, it's okay. Never apologize G. It's worth the pain, trust me."

Greg smiled and tilted his head up to renew the kiss again. It was softer now that they had both been reminded of Nick's injured state. Their lips didn't crush together but instead just met and there was true passion as they each enjoyed the taste and texture of the other's lips.

Even though he was taller than Nick, Greg pushed himself up on the tips of his toes, trying hard to express everything he felt in this moment through his body's reactions. Then he wrapped his arms around Nick's neck, a safe position he knew wouldn't hurt the older man.

Nick's hands had different ideas, but as soon as his fingers tried to dip below Greg's boxers, Greg froze up and pulled away, breaking the picturesque moment.

It was clear Nick was confused by Greg's reaction, but it was Greg's expression that kept him from being hurt. The young lab rat looked scared.

"Hey G, what's wrong? It's all right," Nick assured him, cupping his hand around Greg's jaw.

But Greg shook his head and closed his eyes, then after a moment responded stammeringly, "I … I think we should stop."

Nick heard Greg's words but the dirty blonde's body had a whole different message as it remained pressed against Nick's chest, maintaining as much contact as possible.

"Look Greg, you don't have to do anything you don't want to, but unless you just blacked out on me for a second, I'd say it's pretty obvious how we both feel about each other," Nick reasoned with him.

Greg looked down, "Is it?"

"What?" Nick didn't understand what Greg wanted from him.

"I …I want to help you get over what happened Nick, really, but you're on pain meds and you're in a weird headspace and …."

Nick sighed and took the slightest step back from Greg to give him the room it seemed he needed, "If you don't want do this you can tell me."

"No, I … I just don't want to do this for the wrong reasons. I can't just be a stepping stone in your recovery. I …"

"Greg, I want _you_!" Nick cleared up, taking Greg's face in his hands to make sure he got his message across. "I have for a long time now and I'm sorry that it took a life or death situation to make me willing to go after the things I want, but trust me, I could never use you as a 'stepping stone'. You mean too much to me. Trust me, this isn't some traumatic rebound."

"Really?" Greg asked hopefully and Nick could see his insecurity melting away. "Because I need to know you mean that. I'm too caught up to let this just be some _thing_ that happens and … God, I can never make sense around you."

"Yes, really," Nick laughed. "This is a big deal for me Greg, I swear. When I'm around you I can't see anything else. It's like I'm wearing blinders that'll only look in your direction. And god Greg, I know I just went through something terrible and I should be traumatized but I don't even think about it when you're around. I feel safe here, I feel right, and …."

Nick had planned to say more but Greg's lips were on his again and the tentativeness was gone once more, replaced with a need to be as close as physically possible. Greg was so forceful that Nick had to take a step back and brace himself on a side table. He felt his erection growing and gasped when Greg's hand was suddenly down his boxers.

"So I guess you feel that too, huh?" Greg whispered huskily when he finally broke their kiss and nipped at Nick's earlobe. "By the way, everything you just said, was very pretty. Thank you."

Nick couldn't respond and it wasn't until Greg removed his hand and placed it on Nick's hip instead that he even noticed the labrat had spoken again.

"My bed, now!" Greg demanded.

Now Nick went for Greg's throat, sucking on the soft skin, "But there's a bed right here."

Greg really had to focus to reply, "Mine's double … no condoms here … let's go."

"Not even time for complete sentences?" Nick asked teasingly.

Greg took his hand and forced him to follow, "Definitely not."

They were just past the threshold of the bigger room before they were tangled in each other once more. Wet, demanding tongues probed one another, always searching, looking for more. Greg had to break away to pull his shirt over his head but immediately pounced on Nick's luscious lips again, not having tasted them nearly enough. Hands still groping each other desperately they fell into the bed.

Half an hour later Greg was panting as he slid off of Nick and rolled onto his pillow, landing sprawled on Nick's good arm and only having enough strength to squirm over the two inches needed to rest his head on Nick's shoulder.

"Wow," Nick said softly, breathing evening out as his whole body was engulfed in wonderous euphoria. He looked at the gorgeous face beside him and smiled, because Greg's eyes were already closed, and he was quite possibly already asleep and looking so peaceful it almost hurt.

Nick smiled, thinking that the only way to describe this feeling was pure calm and joy. It was happiness at its best and that almost never happened, but he wasn't going to scorn it when it did.

Kissing Greg's forehead lightly, he joined his lover in sleep.

TBC

Thanks for the great response guys, you are making my first slash fic a very enjoyable experience. There is more healing and loving to come for our boys, hope you stick around! Goody.


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